


or a slogan may topple you

by jillyfae



Series: live by love: codas & interludes [1]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Episode: s01e01 The Mortal Cup, Episode: s01e02 The Descent Into Hell Isn't Easy, Episode: s01e03 Dead Man's Party, Ficlet Collection, Found Family Feels, Gen, Shadowhunters Rewatch
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2020-03-05 12:47:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18828964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jillyfae/pseuds/jillyfae
Summary: Their lives get very complicated and confusingveryquickly, and it's hard to know who to trust, or what to do: coda & interlude fic for the Shadowhunters Rewatch, starting from the beginning again.





	1. 1x01: Meet The Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In honor of the Twitter rewatches, and getting to work with where I know all the characters are _going_ , and because I didn't start watching the show until part-way through season 2, I've decided to do the coda-fic thing for the rest of the series. Starting right at the beginning. With family dynamics. Because they are my favorite part of the show.
> 
> [[tumblr post](https://faejilly.tumblr.com/post/184894782228)]

**Lightwood**

* * *

_"So, be yourself. Is that what you're trying to say?"_

Isabelle knew she shouldn't say it. Knew it wouldn't help, wouldn't work, but she couldn't seem to stop herself.

Didn't even really try, if she was honest.

She preferred being honest.

She knew Alec did too, he just _wouldn't._

He'd say he _couldn't,_ and that that was that.

He'd say that he was fine, that she shouldn't worry.

He wouldn't tell her to stop pushing, not with words, but it'd be there in every scowl, every clipped word.

Every smile that never quite made it across his face.

She wasn't ever going to stop.

If they made it until they were old and grey and retired, and he still hadn't admitted it, she'd _still_ be urging him to tell the truth.

To her, at least, just once. To say it out loud.

She hoped it wouldn't take that long.

* * *

_Be Yourself._

Izzy said it as if it was easy.

Alec knew it wasn't, not even for her, but she'd made her choice. Despite the whispers behind her back, despite the frown in their mother's eyes and the snap in her voice every time she came back to New York, Isabelle chose herself, over and over again.

But there was a difference between raised eyebrows at a brash young woman who flaunted convention and pushed against the rules and what The Clave did to officers who actually _broke_ any of those same rules. Even the ones that weren’t written down.

Izzy'd made her choice, and she wouldn't waver. He'd done the same. She just didn't like the choice he'd made.

He didn't either, some days, but it was his to make.

He didn't _most_ days, if he was strictly honest, which he did try to be, at least to himself where it was safe, but it wasn't nearly as much of a _choice_ as Izzy seemed to think it was. There were consequences to such things, however little she wanted to accept that.

He could never decide if he wanted her to stop pushing, even though she was surprisingly discreet about it, or if it was nice that at least someone noticed, someone cared. Not that it mattered what he wanted, in this particular arena. She'd do what she wanted, what she thought best, regardless of his opinion in the matter.

He wished he could thank her for that, but then he'd have to say _why,_ and then he'd have to say all the things he couldn't risk saying.

So instead he told her he loved her, every chance he got. It wasn't enough.

But it came close.

* * *

_Be Yourself_

Jace heard the lift of Izzy's voice, Alec immediately shutting her down again.

Alec couldn't risk being himself. Alec had to hide himself from the world, because the world wasn't fair. He deserved better.

Jace couldn't risk it either, himself or Alec, but for entirely different reasons. Why be yourself when the person you were _supposed_ to be wasn't someone anyone would want to be, would want to know? Jace had to hide himself, because the world deserved better.

And if he hid himself behind each hunt, each dance, if he threw himself into life so he didn't think about the future? That was better than nothing. Might as well _enjoy_ living on a knife's edge, at least as much as you could.

And Alec... he needed Alec as his anchor. Alec kept him human, despite all the reasons he shouldn't be, and he couldn't,  _couldn't_ risk that. Couldn't lose it. He hated himself for it, but he was glad Alec wouldn't listen to Izzy, glad Alec kept himself hidden.

It kept them both safe.

Safe was the most either of them was ever going to get.

* * *

**Fray**

* * *

_"Trust your instincts. You're more powerful than you know."_

Jocelyn hoped it would be enough. Hoped she'd managed to teach her enough without giving too much away. Exercises that were slowed down martial arts, fairy tales that weren't entirely fiction, the importance of protecting people, whenever, however, whatever it took.

Knowledge of the Shadow World could get a mundane killed, and Clary had _needed_ to be mundane, or they never would have lasted as long as they did.

Ignorance of the Shadow World would get a Nephililm killed though, and Jocelyn knew she'd waited too long. She'd just wanted a little bit more, just a moment or two before Clary would know exactly what kind of her person her mother used to be, before she'd look at her differently.

Before she'd look at the _world_ differently.

Before the world would look back.

* * *

_You're more powerful than you know._

Jocelyn's voice was desperate, and Dot couldn't tell if she even believed what she was saying.

Dot didn't know if she believed it either, for Clary or herself or even Jocelyn.

She hoped.

She had to hope.

She'd started this as an exercise in self-preservation: the Circle couldn't have the Cup. Nothing else mattered. Not even having to work with a _Shadowhunter._ But now they were _family,_ which wasn't something any Warlock took lightly, not when none of them could keep the one they were born in, could make their own in anything resembling a "traditional" manner.

Dot loved them, Jocelyn and Luke and Clary, always poor young Clary, and she wanted to scream.

Clary was stronger than she knew because Jocelyn made sure she _didn't know._

They should have told her sooner.

She and Luke, if Jocelyn wouldn't.

But it was too late now.

Everything was too late now.

It had been decades, but Dot wondered if she remembered how to pray.

Wondered if it would help.

Wondered if it was too late, even for that.

* * *

_You're more powerful than you know._

Clary sat on the stairs in a police station, back pressed to a grungy wall, swallowing her sobs so Captain Vargas wouldn't hear her and find her again, so Luke wouldn't hear her and...

She didn't know how to be afraid of _Luke,_ but she couldn't...

She was as far from strong as it was possible to be. Her mother had lied to her, Dot had known and hadn't said anything, her fa— Luke had used them, all these years, just waiting...

_Trust yourself._

What a joke.

She couldn't even trust her own _eyes,_ not with disappearing tattoos and splitting faces and _demons and magic and swords._

She didn't even know her own _name._

Fairchild?

Maybe she was stronger than she knew, but that was because she didn't know anything.

And the only one who did had just sent her away.

Well.

She wasn't going to stay gone.

She was going to find her mother.

She would get some answers.


	2. 1x02: Appearances Can Be Deceiving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> so uh, whoops? That ReWatch & Coda Writing thing last year didn't quite happen? BUT HEY. It's never too late. Or something like that. So have some DOROTHEA. #DotDeservedBetter [[tumblr](https://faejilly.tumblr.com/post/190126479913)]

The Frays’ apartment was ruined.

That had been part of the plan, Dot knew, making sure there was nothing left for Valentine to track. She hoped it had been done because the plan was working.

She set up the glamour, ignored the way her body still ached, despite the healing. It'd linger, for awhile. She'd been used to working through that, years ago.

She knew she'd adjust again, soon enough.

She hated that she knew that.

And then there was Luke, at last...

Without Clary. 

He looked at her with his cop face, his _Shadowhunter_ face, as if the past twenty years had never happened, as if he still lived on the other side of that wall the Nephilim had built, placing themselves on one side and everyone else on the other. 

He looked _down_ on her, as if she was the one who couldn't be trusted, as if she was the one who'd lost Jocelyn, who'd failed Clary. He look at her as if they hadn’t spent the last decade trying to convince Jocelyn it was time to stop hiding the truth from her daughter, as if all those late night conversations and high-fives over report cards and arguing over who got to keep Clary’s latest artwork to put on their fridge had never happened.

He had the nerve to warn her about _Magnus,_ as if he wasn't the one who'd pulled a gun on her and taken away the only thing she might have been able to use to help Clary, to track her, to be there for her after her parents had failed her. 

Dot had thought of them as _family._

She should have known they didn't feel the same.

Once a Shadowhunter...

But Clary hadn't been raised a Nephilim, didn't know, couldn't know what was happening around her.

None of this was Clary's fault.

Clary deserved better, and Dot was damn well not going to be yet another person to abandon her.

* * *

  
Magnus wasn’t any better than Luke had been.

Well.

He was armored and armed, pretending he didn’t care, wouldn’t care, pretending he couldn’t imagine why Dot did, couldn’t possibly understand why Dot was risking herself for a Shadowhunter.

She knew him better than that, had known him too long to fall for the flash and fire of his reputation. 

She remembered him from before, before all of this happened the first time, back when they’d had their fling, drinking and dancing the nights away almost a hundred years ago. Even then he’d had his masks, had pretended to care more about his parties than his people, but it had been a long time since she’d let him fool her. He had a soft heart beneath his sharp wits, and he was always willing to reach out to strangers, to risk himself for friends, for family.

She remembered him slipping a diamond ring off his finger to tip a cigarette girl whose make-up only barely hid the black-eye she’d gotten from somewhere, a finger lifted to his lip with a _shhh,_ so she’d know not to tell anyone.

The poor girl had kissed his cheek, a smear of lipstick as her breath had stuttered, and Dot was sure she’d been a half-a-heartbeat away from bursting into tears.

They’d never seen her again, but Magnus had gotten a postcard two years later, a simple _thank you_ written above a familiar red shade of lipstick pressed against the cheap paper in a kiss.

He’d almost cried, and he’d never quite forgiven Dot for being there when it happened, had clearly never meant for her to see that glimpse behind his walls, had never wanted her to know how much it meant to him, that _thank you_ _._

She remembered him during the Uprising. How he’d run himself ragged protecting as many people as he could, how he’d drained himself dry night after night for anyone who asked, and half of those who didn’t dare.

She wondered if he was afraid he couldn’t do it again, afraid they’d lose too many if he failed.

She wondered if he knew he would, at some point, be pulled back in again, and was holding his power in reserve, just in case.

She couldn’t begrudge him trying to get them all out ahead of it this time, but she’d never have imagined she’d ask him for help and he’d say _no._

He never said _no._

(If it hadn’t been this, hadn’t been her, hadn’t been because of Valentine, hadn’t been for _Clary,_ she might almost have been proud of him.)

She wondered why he felt he had to hide himself from her, of all people, or if maybe he just thought if he let it out at all he wouldn’t be able to tuck it back in again, wouldn’t be able to keep himself in control for all those people he was hiding away from the Circle.

He’d always had to guard that soft heart of his, or it would have been bruised too much for even him to bear.

He asked her to come away with him, but he didn’t really mean it. He knew she’d turn him down.

He knew exactly why Dot couldn’t go with him.

She thought of the Warlocks she’d seen slipping through the Portal when she arrived, thought of how tired Magnus’ eyes looked in the dawn light on those rare mornings when his glamour slipped, and she supposed she knew why he wouldn’t stay behind, too.

For just an instant, before he flicked his fingers and backed away, before he left her alone, she thought she saw the shine of regret in his eyes.

But he’d made his choice.

And so had she.

She hoped they both could live with it.


	3. 1x3: eye of the beholder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Have some Alec Lightwood, because I always go back to poor Alec Lightwood, and the contrast in this episode between him and Simon and Hodge, what it’s like to be the person left behind when the person you followed, the person you adored, the person you trusted, goes on without you.
> 
> [[tumblr](https://faejilly.tumblr.com/post/190219439868)]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOO, my summary was too long for the box, omg, #jilly has a lots of feels and never knows when to shut up.
> 
> BUT LOOK AT THE CONTRASTS IN THIS EPISODE I CAN'T HELP IT:
> 
> Hodge, who’s locked up in the Institute paying for his own and everyone else’s sins, who’s the one to tell the Lightwood children what little they know about the Circle even when it _tortures him,_ even though their parents no longer have Circle Runes, and could say anything and everything without consequence. Who despite everything else tried to train them well, clearly cares for Alec and Jace and Izzy, is cared for by them in return.
> 
> Clary, who could only be stopped from rushing after Simon (despite knowing she’d probably get herself killed) when it was pointed out that she’d probably get _Simon_ killed too. Whose very first instinct when she sees him again is to tell Simon _not to die._
> 
> Jace’s first instinct when defending Alec was not that, wasn’t “I would do anything for him” but was instead “[Alec] would die for me”... and Jace isn’t wrong, and how terrible is that?

Alec watches.

Alec always watches. He watches the approaches in any room, he watches the heights, the corners. He watches for danger. He makes himself aware...

And then Hodge startles him. 

Hodge _knows about Clary._ He tells Alec, _warns_  him about the monster’s daughter. Hodge didn’t tell Izzy, didn’t tell Jace. Didn’t tell them all, waited until Alec was alone. Waited to report privately, with sensitive information. Waited... for the right moment? But why here, why now? 

Why go a step further, to show concern for the shadows Alec lives in, the life he’s chosen standing behind his siblings, watching out for them. Why warn Alec about Jace, Jace isn’t like Valentine, Jace could never... could never choose someone else over Alec and Izzy?

 It gnaws at him, even as he goes to meet Izzy, even as he thinks about the plan, such as it is, turns it over and over in his head. Distraction, aggression, counting on _luck._  

It’s a terrible plan, but it’s not difficult to stand there and guard against Vampires, it isn’t enough to make him stop thinking about it.

How does everyone  _know_? They risked the City of Bones to find Clary’s memories, and Hodge, Camille’s Vampires... they just _knew._

What else does everyone know? What else doesn’t Alec know? 

How can he protect them if he doesn’t know what else is coming next?

He tries.

He watches their backs.

He watches Izzy.

And Jace.

Always Jace, no matter how much he tries...

He watches Clary, and her poor mundane friend, and he thinks Jace is probably right.

She’s just a little girl who lost her mother, her home, her friends, the man she thought of as a father.

Found out about her actual father, which is probably almost worse than the rest.

But they don’t _know,_  they can’t _know,_  and for all Jace likes to rush into things, he’s never not let Alec say _wait_  before. He may always do what he wants anyways, but he’s never not _listened,_  never not let Alec work through a problem to figure out the angles, never not let Alec fret at him, a smile in his eyes as he waited for Alec to agree with him, but now he won’t even let Alec _talk,_  and Alec...

Alec doesn’t know what to do with that, he just wants Jace to... stop looking at Clary for one moment, to stop watching her even when Alec’s talking. Just one minute, just one thought, just to let Alec finish one sentence... 

Despite everything else, they’d always been partners, but now?

Now Jace asks him why Alec _helped,_  and he doesn’t know how to answer that, can’t even understand how Jace could ask the question. 

He leaves.

They can watch their own backs for once.

He pretends he doesn’t know that they probably won’t even notice, that him not protecting them will hurt him more than them. He pretends he doesn’t care.

He’s gotten good at that, over the years.

At least he’s good at something. 


	4. 1x4: All Eyes On Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MAGNUS IS HEEEEEEERE! <3 <3 <3 
> 
> [[tumblr](https://faejilly.tumblr.com/post/190370687503)]

Magnus dismisses Elias' worries. It's not entirely fair, but it helps no one seeking refuge to see Magnus getting worried. They have a plan, they should be safe, all Magnus has to do is make sure Valentine doesn't come looking for the Lair itself.

He's always been good at drawing attention. 

He doesn't tell Elias about Dorothea, that she'd asked for help and Magnus said no.

Doesn't tell anyone that he can't feel her magic anymore. They all know what that means. 

Dorothea had wanted to help Clary.

Magnus can't refuse young Clarissa _now,_ not now that Dorothea isn't here to ask again. 

Plus he's not lying about the necklace. No one knows how to recreate the enchantment on that ruby, and if Valentine gets the Cup? It might be their only chance, the only way they'll know when he finally makes his move.

Magnus will go to the Rave, be bright and brilliant and distracting, draw Valentine's eye in the wrong direction. He'll offer Clary sanctuary, he'll get a necklace that will help them protect themselves from the Circle... win, win, win. Even if it doesn't all work out as planned (it never all works out as planned) as long as he pulls off one out of three, it's worth the risk.

He's risked more for worse odds.

He'd risk everything, to keep his people safe.

Besides, it's a very pretty necklace. Why shouldn't he get to admire it again? The Shadowhunters certainly don't deserve to keep it.

*

Zero for three.

Worse than that, the shields are down, the Wards are compromised, they should have been safe, _they should have been safe,_ and instead they're fighting and dying.

Mostly dying.

The ones who could fight hadn't taken him up on his offer of sanctuary, had fled New York, retreated to their own separate hide-outs, _he'd promised them they'd be safe._

He doesn't have time to think about it right now, to figure out how or why or what went wrong, he's just got to find the attackers, make sure every Circle member here tries to kill _him_ rather than anyone else, make sure he gets them all before...

Before anyone else dies.

He fails, of course, but it goes better than he expected.

Because of _Shadowhunters._

 _Shadowhunters_ who tracked a fleeing Warlock and followed him. In order to _help._

That's...

That's not how the world works.

Not that he's complaining about being wrong, not this time.

And Clarissa is here, and still Clarissa, a good heart underneath all that spark and fire she'd lashed out with at first. (And isn't that familiar enough that he has to let it go?) She's the girl he remembers, almost, now that she's not desperately posturing to try and make a deal, and that flash of grief and guilt for Dorothea was _real,_ he's sure of it.

It's almost comforting to have someone share his guilt with him for once.

Plus there's the delightful young Isabelle, who wears that necklace better than Camille ever did, and the protection of Wayland and these young brash Lightwoods, so different from their parents, and there's...

_Alec._

One simple (mostly)human archer who helped Magnus _twice,_ who is too pretty to be believed, who _smiled back..._

They helped, and seem likely to continue to do so, and now? Magnus may not have achieved anything he set out to do this evening, but...

He's definitely not complaining about being wrong.

Maybe this time Valentine will lose.

Maybe this time the Nephilim will help stop him.

Maybe... maybe he'll get to see Alec smile again.

He refuses to admit, even to himself, how important that last one feels, in comparison to everything else. 

**Author's Note:**

> #jillyfic is the catch-all tag on [twitter](https://twitter.com/faejilly) if you'd like to yell at me, that's always fun.


End file.
